


My Sister, My Brother

by MoonlightSalsa



Series: Branch 1: The Unnamed Planet [3]
Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Ballet, Friendship, Gen, culinary arts, long-lost family, newfound family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-11 10:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15970631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightSalsa/pseuds/MoonlightSalsa
Summary: After a shocking discovery in Paris, Noodle learns that she wasn't the only survivour of the child super soldier project.





	1. Paris, Île-de-France, France

**Author's Note:**

> I probably should be working on my other fics (Story of a Great Evil Queen in particular) but once this idea popped into my head, there was no getting around it and I knew I just had to write about it!
> 
> And yes, I ran all the French phrases through Google Translate (I'm sorry).

As usual, Noodle was the first one to wake up. 

She was the only one who regularly got up before one or two in the afternoon. She thought the morning was the best time of day and saw no point in wasting it by sleeping when you could have just gone to bed at night like a normal person.

And now she was in Paris, she had absolutely no reason to sleep in when she could explore. Which is what she planned to do. 

Noodle filled the kettle with water and stepped out on to the balcony while she waited for it to boil. She could see the Eiffel Tower in the distance, standing out against the clear blue sky. She made a mental note to climb it later on. And drag the boys with her once they woke. 

Below her was traffic, human and mechanical, as people went about living their daily lives. She could smell the exhaust, punctuated by a sweet spring breeze. The sun was warm on her face. The penthouse suite did have its perks. 

The kettle whistled sharply, and Noodle went back inside. As she made a cup of tea, her mind wandered to all the exciting things she could do during the few days they were here, before practicing for the concerts, and the concerts themselves. Climbing the Eiffel Tower. Visiting the Louvre. Wandering the streets, browsing shops, watching street performers, sampling all kinds of street food, beignets, croissants…

Actually, that last one sounded pretty good. She was pretty hungry, and what better way to celebrate her first morning in France than with pain au chocolate? 

Noodle quickly scrawled a note, saying what she'd be doing, in case the others woke up before she got back, then she grabbed her purse and headed out. 

The streets were noisy and crowded. but Noodle didn't mind. It reminded her of Japan, where her roots lay. 

There was much to see. There were already outdoor stalls selling homemade jewelry, and vendors providing beignets and crepes, already catering to the tourists even though it wasn't even nine o'clock yet. Noodle stopped at one of these vendors and purchased a crepe filled with rich chocolate that oozed out and ran down her chin when she bit into it. She wiped it off and continued to look around as she licked her fingers. 

There were the mimes with their powder-white faces, and there was a man riding on a unicycle while juggling plastic bowling pins, enthralling a crowd of children that had gathered to watch. He captured Noodle’s attention too, and she stared at the pins being tossed through the air, while not really looking where she was going…

Suddenly, she collided with someone. 

“Je suis désolé. Excusez-moi…” They said. (I'm sorry. Excuse me…)

Noodle looked up, and got the biggest shock of her life. 

Dr Kyuzo had told her she was the only one to survive, but now, it was evident that that was a lie. 

It had been twenty years since they had last seen each other, she had grown up, just like Noodle had, but it was unmistakably her. That small shy smile, the way her too-long bangs fell in her eyes, Noodle recognised these features immediately. 

“Tomoko,” she breathed, “Number 18.” 

The woman stared back, looking...confused. 

“Je suis désolé, vous devez me prendre pour quelqu'un d'autre.” (I'm sorry, you must have mistaken me for someone else.) 

Noodle understood what she was saying(she could understand any language, after all) and yet she was lost. Did Tomoko really not know who she was? Who any of them were? Was she even aware of her past at all? It felt like she'd taken a punch to the gut. Tomoko had been her best friend. And now…

The woman continued speaking. “Bien que je ne comprenne pas comment tu ne reconnais pas La Petit Cygne! En tout cas, je dois partir. Au revoir.” (Although, I don't understand how you don't recognise The Little Swan! Anyway, I must be on my way. Goodbye.) She then stepped past a dumbfounded Noodle. But she stopped when Noodle grabbed hold of her arm. 

“Tomo-er, je veux dire, Petit Cygne!” (Tomo-er, I mean, Little Swan!”) Thinking on her feet, Noodle suddenly recalled the phrase that had brought her own memory back. 

“Avez-vous déjà mangé un plat appelé bacon de mer?” (Have you ever eaten a dish called ocean bacon?) 

Tomoko just stared at her, transfixed, ignoring the bustling crowd that surrounded them. Her eyes became a flurry of confusion, then understanding, then recognition. It all happened so quickly, then she gave a weak moan and sank to her knees. Noodle did the same and placed a comforting hand on her back, once again ignoring the crush of people. 

Tomoko looked up at her, and only managed to get out “Haruka! Number 23!” in English before she buried her face in her hands and wailed. 

Noodle finally took notice of the crowd and began to lift Tomoko up by her arms. She did not resist, though she continued to wail. 

“I know it's a lot to take in at once, believe me. Come on, I'll take you back to my hotel.”

By the time the two reached the hotel, got past reception, travelled up in the elevator and seated themselves in the dining area of the penthouse, Tomoko had stopped her feeble cries, but was now shivering. Noodle rebooked the kettle and prepared tea for them both. 

“Do you like milk in your tea?” She asked. She got a shake of the head in response. 

Noodle filled the mugs with hot water and brought them over to the table. She watched as Tomoko picked up hers with shaky hands. 

“What name do you go by, now?” She asked. 

“A-Annika. Annika von Torttenstolm.” 

“Annika,” Noodle let the name roll off her tongue, “that's a lovely name. I'm Noodle.” 

Annika jerked her head up. “Noodle? Like the food?” She sounded incredulous. 

Noodle laughed. “Yes, like the food. That was the only English word I knew when I popped out of that Fed-Ex crate.” 

“I was found in a Fed-Ex crate, too.” Annika smiled bleakly, “Mother said I was fast asleep. I woke up in this grand bedroom, in this bed that was way too big for me. And I remember it smelled like lavender. And I was so confused, especially when the servants spoke to me but I couldn't understand them…” 

“Have you lived in Paris your whole life?”

“No actually, I was originally shipped off to Vienna, in Austria, but I've moved here to dance.” 

“Ballet,” Noodle smiled, remembering how each of their brothers and sisters were given a special talent. Hers was music, of course. But she suddenly recalled a memory of herself sitting on a drab concrete floor, watching Annika - still back then known as Tomoko - throwing herself through the air and landing on her tippy-toes with the grace and beauty of a leaf landing on the surface of a lake. And Dr Kyuzo was there, smiling at her and clapping. 

“What about you?” Annika asked, snapping her out of her reverie.

“Oh, me? Well, I ended up at this dilapidated music studio in the middle of nowhere, England, and these three men were there, Murdoc, 2D and Russel. They were a band and we're looking for a guitarist and I just so happened to have been shipped over with a guitar, so… They became my family.” Noodle didn't want to tell Annika about El Mañana and Plastic Beach just yet. A story for another day. 

“So! Obviously you don't want me to call you Tomoko anymore, do you?” 

Annika shook her head. “God, no! I can't stand that name!”

“Remember the fit you threw when it was chosen to be your new name?” 

In an attempt to humanise them in the eyes of the government, Dr Kyuzo had suggested that the children be given names instead of just being referred to by their numbers. Unluckily for Number 18, she'd gotten stuck with one she hated the sound of immediately. 

Dr Kyuzo had laughed at this silly little-kid tantrum. The government officials had been less forgiving. Fortunately, Dr Kyuzo had intervened before the officials could. He'd talked to her, explaining to the then-five year old that the ‘army men’ don't like it when she yelled and that she would need to accept her new name. He made it sound alright. 

Annika’s grin faded. “I miss Kyuzo. Did you ever meet him?” 

“I did. He's doing okay. He's just laying low for awhile.” 

Just then, another door in the penthouse slammed shut. Twenty seconds later, Russel walked in, looking extremely sleep depraved. 

“Mornin’ baby-girl,” he yawned, then stopped mid-yawn when he saw the other Japanese woman sitting at the table. He rubbed at his eyes. “Who on earth’s this?”


	2. From Paris To Tuscany

Russel was sitting in another chair at the table, Ace was leaning against the kitchen counter, and 2D was standing awkwardly by the sliding glass door that led out onto the balcony. They all looked bedraggled and astonished. 

“But Noodle,” 2D said, “I though’chu were the only one who lived.” 

“So did I,” Noodle responded, “I wonder why Dr Kyuzo didn't tell me about Annika.” 

“Or Koji,” Annika piped up. 

“What?!” 

Koji. Number 4. 

“You mean you don't know about Koji?” Annika cocked her head to the side. “I thought you'd know.”

Noodle shook her head. “No. Why do you remember? What do you know about him? Do you know where he went?”

Annika squeezed her eyes shut. “The last thing I remember before Kyuzo wiped my memory was looking over at Koji’s Fed-Ex crate.”

“That's weird. I don't remember seeing anyone else. Did you see me?” 

“No.” 

“Hmm.” Noodle frowned as she pondered the situation. She wondered why she couldn't remember Koji, or Annika for that matter, being sent away. Maybe she'd already been sent off. Or maybe something happened and Dr Kyuzo thought it was too dangerous or suspicious to ship them all off at once. She only recalled herself sitting in the crate in a tiny room that was definitely empty except for Dr Kyuzo, who was packing ready-to-eat food and her guitar in the crate while muttering soft comforting words to her frightened child self. Then she was put into some kind of hypnotic state, the words “ocean bacon” were spoken and the lid of the crate was fitted into place. 

Now fast forward twenty years later and she was sitting across from her best friend, her long-lost newfound sister. But what had become of Koji? 

“Do you know where he was sent?”

“Yeah. I saw where it was postmarked. It was Italy. It was in Tuscany, I think. There was the name of a city or town or something, but I couldn't make it out.” 

Italy. Of course. Koji’s talent was in culinary arts. So why not ship him to a country famed for its cuisine? 

“Well,” Noodle smiled, “let's find him. Ace, can I borrow your laptop?” 

Ace went and retrieved it. When he came back, he was muttering “man, this is confusin’” to himself. 

“Alright,” Noodle said as she opened up Google, “if I'm a famous musician and you're a famous dancer, Annika, I don't see why Koji wouldn't be a famous chef. So I'm going to search up famous people from Tuscany and see if anything comes up that sounds like him.” 

She soon found some tacky tabloid website that promised to list off the ‘ten most famous and influential Italians in the 21st century’. Not centred around Tuscany, but it'll have to do for now. 

Everyone gathered around as Noodle scrolled down and cursed as the the webpage stopped loading and the laptop froze for a second. Eventually, they made it to Number 6 when she stopped. 

“Marco Palladio,” Noodle read aloud, “Japanese-born, adopted by a loving family in the seaside town of Le Colline Della Luna, his rising talents as a chef have taken him around the world...influential in the world of cookery because of his famous fusion cuisine, particularly that of Japanese and Italian… Well, I know Koji liked making pizza and pasta but do you think this could be him? I mean, there's no picture.” 

“It could be, but I'm not too sure” Annika said. 

“Why don't you keep looking?” Russel suggested.

“Yeah. There might be some other adopted Japanese chefs runnin’ around Tusken Raider or whatever it's called.” Ace said. 

“But what are the chances? Also, it's Tuscany, not Tusken Raider. And I'm going to look up this Marco Palladio and see what he looks like.” She typed the name into the search bar and images came up instantly. 

“That's him!” Noodle said excitedly. 

“Yeah! That's so him!” Annika was also ecstatic. 

“Are you sure? How can you tell?” Russel asked. 

Noodle enlarged an image of the chef standing in front of the sea with his arms folded. He was wearing a singlet. Noodle pointed to his arm. “Look at his arm. He's got a scar on his left arm.” Indeed, the photo did in fact show he had a scar, just above his elbow. 

“He got it from when he and Tanaka were having a knife-throwing competition,” Annika said, citing another memory. “He wasn't allowed to use the kitchen knives unsupervised after that.” 

Noodle giggled.

“Who's Tanaka?” 2D asked. 

“Number 11. His talent was athletics.” Annika’s voice went quieter until it trailed off completely. 

There was a moment of silence until Ace spoke up. 

“So, how you gonna find this Marco fulla? Ain't he travellin’ ‘round the world or somethin’?” 

Noodle snapped back into action. “Of course, right! I'll see if I can find any more info on him.” 

All she found out was that he was touring the world, visiting different restaurants and taking them over for a few weeks, acting as head chef and revising their menus in some sort of reformation process. Only thing was: his next restaurants and countries on his visiting list were a well-kept secret. Possibly for safety reasons, Noodle suspected. She herself had been absolutely swamped by people, fans, the press, when they got ahold of her next destination. It happens to every famous person eventually. 

Noodle turned to Annika. “We have to get to Italy. To Le Colline Della Luna. As fast as we can. We have to find his family, they'll probably know where he is.” Annika nodded to all of this earnestly. 

“Hang on baby-girl, you can't go just yet. We've got concerts scheduled for tonight and the next three days.” Russel said. “And after that, we've got to hustle around America and Mexico. We won't have a free day for another month at least.” 

“Reschedule the Paris concerts, then,” Noodle snapped. “We need to get to Italy, this is my brother we’re talking about!” 

“We can’t reschedule, especially not on such short notice. I'm sorry, but it looks like you're just gonna have to wait until the tour is over.” Russel said as gently as he could. 

“What ‘bout the cyborg?” 2D said. 

“What?” 

“Hey, yeah, we brought that thing with us, didn't we? Noods wanted her bloody makeshift flowerpot, and Dee accidentally brought the bag her body was in ‘cause he thought it was the tools for the tour bus,” Ace said. 

“And for the last time Dee, we do not put our bus tools in a body bag.” Russel shook his head. 

Noodle was bouncing nervously on the balls of her feet. “Yes! You can put it together, can't you? Then it can play in my place and I can go find Koji!” She turned to Annika. “And as long as you don't have any obligation…?” 

“I have a performance coming up, but not for many months, and I mean, I'm not needed anywhere in the meantime except rehearsal, but I'll just say I've decided to take a short holiday to rest.” She tittered. “They'll believe me. I've done the same in the past. The pressure in the world of dance is insane, you know?” 

“Then,” Noodle took Annika’s hands into her own, “let's go find our brother!”


	3. Le Colline Della Luna, Tuscany, Italy

Six hours later Noodle and Annika arrived in Italy. Two hours after that, they were standing in the main square of the quaint little seaside town known as Le Colline Della Luna, or Hills of the Moon, according to the tiny pamphlet Noodle had grabbed. The name made some sense, as the town was indeed built on several small hills, and surrounded by many more, and the pamphlet stated how you had a crystal-clear view of the night sky from the tallest hill. 

By the time they arrived, it was two o'clock. Neither woman had slept at all or even thought about eating. They had just packed a few belongings and left. They were simply too excited at the prospect of finding their brother. 

Now they stood in the main square, next to a beautiful marble fountain, Noodle responding to the text Russel had sent asking if they had a safe trip. Annika was talking to an old man, asking if he knew where the Palladio family lived. He nodded, pointed up one of the hills and gave more details in Italian. Annika thanked him and grabbed Noodle’s arm, leading her away. 

The hill the Palladios lived on may have looked small, but after climbing it, Annika begged to differ. Despite having strong dancer’s legs, she was puffing by the time she reached the front gate. Noodle was already there, jogging on the spot and playfully sticking her tongue out. Annika swatted at her with the last of her energy. 

“Hate...hills...ow…” She panted. 

Noodle laughed at her before walking up the garden path and ringing the doorbell. The first thing she noticed while coming up the hill was how closely packed together all the houses were. The houses themselves were tiny and the backyards seemed to be spilling into each other. Noodle could see the neighbours hedge swallowing the Palladio’s fence. 

An aging woman in a flowery red dress answered the door, and was evidently taken aback by the two strange Japanese women on her porch. 

“Yes?” She asked in English.

“Uh, hi. We’re looking for Koj-I mean Marco.” Noodle said, mentally kicking herself for starting off so awkwardly.

The woman's eyes narrowed. “Why do you need to know that? Who's asking?” 

Noodle cleared her throat. “His sisters.” 

Five minutes later, Noodle and Annika were sitting on an old beat-up sofa in the small but cozy living room. The woman, Rosa, and her husband, Antony, were seated on the couch across from them. 

“Yes, Marco took a sudden trip to Japan a few years back, and when he returned, he mentioned how he had sisters,” Rosa said. “He also mentioned someone named Kyuzo, but he refused to say any more when we asked him. We just figured it was random mumbling. He used to do that quite a lot. Especially when he was distressed. But now, it's obvious it wasn't just mumbling.” 

Antony shook his head. “I still don't believe this. You claim to be his sisters. How come you never tried to get in touch?” 

“Because we only learned of his existence a day ago.” Noodle responded. Seeing the confused expressions on their faces, she decided it was time to explain. 

“Alright. Me and Annika and Marco were once three of twenty three children that were involved in a top secret project in Japan that aimed to create child soldiers that would serve in the military. 

Now, none of us were actually related. Some of us were orphaned as infants and adopted by the facility, and some of us were basically test-tube babies. But, we still considered each other our brothers and sisters because we were, in a sense. 

Our primary caregiver, aside from the government officials, was a scientist named Dr Kyuzo. His jobs included overseeing what we ate, what we wore, how much we slept, stuff like that. As well as being able to speak every language and perform martial arts, we each chose a special talent or skill, and it was also Kyuzo’s job to nurture and help us grow those skills. 

We loved Kyuzo, he was like a father to all of us. He was the one who gave us names and enabled us to choose a talent in the first place. He saw us for what we were; children, people, and that set him apart from the rest of the scientists.”

Noodle paused to take a breath. Rosa and Antony were quiet, waiting for her to continue. Noodle composed herself and resumed speaking. 

“One day, a fight broke out between Numbers 6 and 14. Shuuya and Yuri. They were always getting into fights but this time it got pretty bad. They spent a week in the infirmary. I guess that was when the government realised that we were becoming too dangerous. Too dangerous for our own good. They ordered the project to be terminated. 

Kyuzo said he fought for our lives every chance he got. And each time, he was turned away. It evidently annoyed the government, because in the end he was tasked with killing us.”

Rosa let out a horrified gasp. Noodle only nodded sadly. 

“They knew he loved us and they made him kill us. We and our siblings were deliberately kept in the dark, for obvious reasons. When the time came, we were lined up single file and given blindfolds and noise-cancelling headphones. The officials worried we'd hear or see what was happening and go out of control. 

We were herded into a room with an incinerator. Then Kyuzo shot our siblings one by one until he couldn't do it anymore and shot the attending guards. 

All the bodies were to be incinerated. It was easy for Kyuzo to get rid of the evidence and pretend all of us were dead. In reality, he'd wiped our memories and shipped us off in Fed-Ex crates to different parts of Europe. And now here we are twenty years later.” Noodle finished. 

Rosa looked as if she was holding back tears, and Antony was shocked into silence. Annika's head was bowed, and she too was quiet. 

“Please tell us where Marco is,” Noodle said. She felt a little rude, especially after the brain dump of info she just gave them, but she saw no other way to move the conversation forward. 

Rosa swallowed. “He's in Berlin. At the Continental City Hotel Restaurant. He's staying there for a few more days before he heads off to Greece.” Definitely trying not to cry. 

Then, she stood up. 

“Would you like some afternoon tea?” She sounded like she was trying to get her mind off the secret backstory of her adopted son. 

They all sat around the small table on the back porch. A chocolate cake sat in the centre, surrounded by cups of rose hip tea. 

“Marco taught me this recipe,” Rosa said, her voice wobbling as she divided the cake into roughly equally sized slices. “He created it himself. I know it won't be as good as when he makes it, but I still hope you enjoy it.” 

For Noodle, one bite was all it took for another memory to come rushing back. This time, it was of herself sitting at a table wearing a party hat. All her siblings and Kyuzo were too, and they were singing Happy Birthday as Koji presented her with a cake in the shape of a jack-o-lantern, because her birthday fell on Halloween. And Tomoko was jumping up and down because she was always a huge sucker for his cakes. And the cake was chocolate and there was heaps left over and Akiko and Ryo threw handfuls of it at each other while Kyuzo tried to get them to stop until he took a lump of cake to the face and Noodle - Haruka, - was laughing. 

Then, her thoughts turned to the first birthday she celebrated with the rest of her band. She was turning eight and they didn't know her real birthday so they just picked Halloween because it was the nearest holiday (that was Murdoc’s idea), though they had no idea that it actually was her birthday. Russel had bought a cake slathered in vanilla frosting and rainbow sprinkles. 2D kept sticking his finger in it and Murdoc slapped him round the head twice before Russel stepped in to wrangle the two of them apart while Noodle watched, laughing. Then they all gathered round the table and sang Happy Birthday (Murdoc was horribly out of tune and his breath smelled of whisky) and then they presented her with a new helmet because her old one had seen better days. And she'd loved it and squealed when she saw it. Even Murdoc smiled at that. 

Those two birthdays were very different, yet they were the same. Because they were celebrated with her family and hilarity had ensued. 

Noodle wiped away a lone tear and saw she wasn't the only one crying. 

Annika was making muffled sobbing noises, tears streaming down her face as she shoveled forkful after forkful of cake into her mouth. 

“Are you okay, Annika?” Rosa asked. “Don't you like it?” 

“No, I love it, it's just…” Annika spoke with her mouth full before descending into sobs that wracked her whole body. “I miss them! Koji, Tanaka, Shuuya, Chisato, Yuri, Kazuo...I miss them all so much!” Cake crumbs flew out of her mouth with every word. She stood up. 

“I-I just need some time alone. I'll be in the bathroom.” She scurried back inside. 

Noodle hadn't realised she started crying again until she saw Rosa and Antony staring at her, concerned. 

“Do you need some time alone, too, honey?” Rosa asked. Noodle nodded. Rosa stood up and ushered her husband back inside. 

Noodle dried her face with a napkin and stared out at the garden. It was tiny, but full of colourful flowers. The grass had been mowed recently and the neighbours hedge had actually been trimmed back a lot compared to the front yard. The sun was setting, illuminating everything with a golden glow. It was serene. It was calm. Noodle felt a bit better. 

Noodle brought out her phone, hoping to see a text from one of her band mates. There was. Russel asked how everything was going, 2D sent the same thing but with more spelling and grammatical errors, and Ace sent her a picture of Cyborg Noodle holding one of Noodle’s guitars, along with the words “isn't the same without u!” Noodle usually hated the sight of her cyborg, but today, looking at the picture, she felt nothing. 

She opened her Twitter and found it overrun with comments such as “good concert last night-especially with cyborg!” and “where are you, Noodle?” She sent out a tweet reading “gomen guys! Had 2 take quick trip 2 Italy!” 

Noodle opened a travel app and looked at departure times to Berlin. One plane was leaving at eight. She looked at the time on her phone. Just after six. They could make it if they hurried. 

“Annika!” She yelled, running into the house. “Annika, there's a plane to Berlin at eight and we’re gonna have to leave now if we want to make it!” 

Annika emerged in the hallway, her eyes red and puffy. She didn't say a word, just grabbed her jacket and bag. 

Noodle turned to Rosa and Antony. “You've been so kind, I can't thank you enough.”

Rosa gave a small smile, evidently pleased at the change in tune. “We're glad to have helped, dearie. We’ll give Marco a call to let him know you're coming.” 

Noodle grinned. “Thank you so much!” 

She was still calling “thank you!” as she and Annika ran down the hill. 

Hours later, in Berlin..,

“Oh my god, I'm sooo tired,” Annika yawned from the back seat of the taxi.

“So am I,” Noodle said, “but look! We're here!” 

The taxi pulled up out the front of the Continental City Hotel Restaurant. Noodle paid the driver, then she and Annika got out onto the street. 

“What now? Do we just go in and ask to speak to Marco?” Annika asked. She sounded like she was worried they'd get turned away. Admittedly, that thought hadn't even crossed Noodle’s mind until now. 

“I guess. If not, then…” Noodle shrugged her shoulders. “We stalk him all the way to Greece?” 

Annika snorted at that, the first time Noodle heard her laugh in a while. She'd seemed to have mostly gotten over that depressing afternoon in Italy. 

The two women entered the lobby and walked up to the receptionist standing by the elegant double doors leading to the restaurant. 

“Hallo, wir würden gerne mit Chef Marco Palladio sprechen,” (Hello, we would like to speak to Chef Marco Palladio) Noodle said politely. 

The receptionist’s eyes widened. “Fräulein Noodle! Fräulein von Torttenstolm! Herr Palladio sagte, dass ich nach euch zwei suchen sollte! Bitte warte hier, während wir ihn wissen lassen, dass du hier bist.” (Miss Noodle! Miss von Torttenstolm! Mr Palladio told me to be on the lookout for you! Please wait here while we tell him you’re here.) The receptionist flag get down a passing waiter and spoke a few words to him. The waiter nodded and glanced at the women. 

“Hier entlang bitte.” (This way, please.) The two followed the waiter down a hallway and up several staircases draped with red and gold. They passed by glass windows where they could see into the restaurant, and watched people dining and waiters carrying staggering armfuls of food around. All lovingly prepared under the watchful eye of Marco Palladio. 

The waiter led them into a room off to the side. In the room was a table set for three with a sign saying “Reserved” in both German and English, alongside drinks menus. The table was placed next to a window boasting magnificent views of the city below. The walls were decorated simply but elegantly. 

The waiter ushered the two into the room and turned and shut the door behind him as he left, muttering what sounded like “please wait here…” 

“Oh my GOD, Noodle!” Annika bounced up and down on her heels, barely able to contain herself. “It's HAPPENING! We’re actually going to meet him!” 

“I know, I know! I can't wait!” Noodle hadn't felt such a dizzying rush of excitement in a long time. She pressed her head up against the window, breathing heavily. The glass fogged up more with each breath. 

Annika made small, impatient noises. 

Then, the door clicked open and clicked shut again. The women turned to find their long-lost, newfound brother standing before them in his chef whites. He extended his arms. 

“My sisters.” He whispered. 

He was quickly enveloped in two massive bear hugs. Many tears were had. 

A few minutes later, they all sat down at the table, clutching each other’s hands as if they were afraid to let go. 

Marco glanced down at the cutlery. “Are you hungry?” 

“Yes!” Annika practically shouted the one word. 

Marco summoned the waiter, who brought menus. After intense scrutinising, they place their orders. Marco gave instructions to put it all in his tab. 

The waiter left, and the three siblings were alone to talk their hearts out. 

Noodle was the first to spill her entire life story, including El Mañana and Plastic Beach. Annika gasped at certain parts and Marco was shocked. But their expressions softened when told of how happy and content she'd been of late. 

Annika was second. She talked of how her adoptive family hired a Japanese-speaking nanny to communicate with her, and how she grew up with two other sisters and three brothers and their parents and their parent’s parents, and how they noticed her gift of dance early on and enrolled her in more lessons immediately and how she's been working her way up in the ballet world ever since. 

Then it was Marco’s turn. He said how he quickly accustomed himself to the Palladio’s kitchen and cooked himself a meal the first night after he arrived, and how he picked up pieces of the Italian language until he was able to speak and read it fluently, and how he made his breakthrough in the world of cuisine be getting to be the apprentice to another great chef and “being the best goddamn apprentice ever”. He said how one day he found a recipe for ocean bacon and rushed off to Japan as fast as he could. He was also told several things that Kyuzo had not told Noodle. 

“He shipped me and Annika off before you because he wanted to send you off with your guitar, and he had to wait a few days until he could grab it without arousing suspicion.” 

That was one mystery solved. 

“There's a reason he didn't tell you about me and Annika.” He continued. 

“And what was that?” Noodle asked. 

Marco smiled a little. “Because you couldn't keep your mouth shut.” 

Noodle squeezed her eyelids closed. Of course! She should have known! She used to be such a tattletale as a small child, always sniffing around for troublemakers. But never dirt. That was Chisato’s job. 

It made sense that Kyuzo would tell Marco. Marco was the complete opposite of a snitch. 

“Yeah, he was worried that if he told you about us, you'd blab to someone and that info would make it back to the government.” Marco finished. 

Noodle nodded, trying not to look hurt. He understood completely why part of the truth was withheld from her, but that didn't mean it didn't sting. 

“Why didn't you try to get in contact with us?” She asked.

“I did, a few times actually. I tried finding you, but that was in 2010 and now I know why I couldn't.”

Plastic Beach. Noodle hated it even more now, if that was possible. 

“And with Annika, I went to watch her dance several times. I tried to talk to her, but security wouldn't let me. It was too tight. I'm sorry.” 

Noodle grasped his hand. “Don't be sorry. You tried.” She then smiled widely. 

“I-I just can't believe I've finally found you, both of you.” She said. “All my life, I've felt like I was missing something. Now, not only do I know what the missing pieces were, but I've found them!” 

Annika laughed. “I was just thinking that!”

“So was I!” Marco stated. 

“And to think,” Annika continued, “if me and Noodle decided not to go out that morning, I'd have never learned of your existence. 

Just then, the waiter entered, balancing three plates in his arms. He set each one down, then left. 

“Hey, what did you order?” Noodle asked. 

“Ocean bacon.” Annika smiled, tipping her plate slightly to show her. 

“Hey, that's what I ordered!” Noodle said.

“Did both of you order it as well?” Marco couldn't believe it. 

“As well?!” 

The three siblings, once separated but now reunited, laughed until their stomachs hurt, as the city lights twinkled below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys this is legit like the longest chapter I've ever written and my thumbs hurt!
> 
> But I hope you've enjoyed this and please R 'n' R!


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